Brin had grown up just outside Fort Benning, in Columbus, Georgia — practically within earshot of the firing ranges. Her grandfather, Master Sergeant (Ret.) James Caldwell, had been a civilian marksmanship instructor with the U.S. Army Marksmanship Unit. For twenty years, he’d coached everyone from infantry squads to Olympic hopefuls.

After Brin’s parents were killed in a car crash when she was six, her grandfather raised her himself.
He was strict, fair, and relentless.

At eight years old, he handed her a bolt-action .22 rifle and said, “You’ll treat this with more respect than anything you own.”
By twelve, she could field-strip an M16 blindfolded.
By fifteen, she was running malfunction drills in the rain until her fingers bled.

He’d tell her,

“Anyone can shoot when everything works, Brin. But a real marksman knows how to shoot when it doesn’t.”

It was the line that shaped her entire career.